Recrudescence
by Foofs
Summary: When Ginny Weasley gets her heart broken by Harry Potter, her life becomes a downward spiral as she crumbles into desolation and misery. It doesn't help that her best friend, Hermione Granger, is the one he left her for. But even in her state, revenge never crosses her mind. Till Draco Malfoy takes it upon himself to convince her otherwise. Manipulative!Draco


**A/N:** Word of warning: This will involve much mind games, Harry and Hermione bashing (even though I personally do not hate them), slight Ginny bashing?, sexual content, sexy!dark!manipulative!Draco and yes some sexual violence (not in a bad way but it still pushes the boundary well enough). Do not proceed if you find any of the material offensive.

But hey, here it goes. I'm a bit nervous what with this being the first time I am ever publishing any of my works but hey better late than never, huh? Be a darling and please share your thoughts, criticism, love, hate, whatever it is? *crosses fingers*

 **Chapter 1 - Damnation**

They were snogging again.

Harry's hands were in Hermione's hair in what appeared to be a vice like grip as he moved his mouth against hers vigorously. Their embrace was passionate and loud, moans and grunts spilling from the couple and echoing around the Restricted Section of the library. It was rather reckless to be making out somewhere one could easily walk upon them but they seemed so lost in each other, that it was highly unlikely that they would take notice of any intrusion. But then, the whole school had already witnessed their ardor many a time and neither Harry nor Hermione – for all their bashful, prudish nature – cared a great deal about spectators; much to Ginny Weasley's misery.

She was awfully prone to run into the golden couple, kissing, groping and doing other things that she had once shared with Harry. Whenever someone was around, she strived to appear indifferent and aloof when such happened, laughing lightly about how people cannot get a room these days. But in truth, it wrenched her heart every time she saw Hermione whimper under Harry's ministrations and how they both giggled in between their kisses, so in love with each other. It hurt her immensely indeed. Yet curiously she found that she couldn't look away from them, staring on discreetly as they made out. She did not understand from where this perverse streak of voyeurism did come from but she was a slave to it, helplessly so. And this was precisely what she was doing now.

Hidden behind the section on cannibalistic vegetation, she was confident they couldn't possibly ever see her from their position (and even if they were able to see her she didn't think they would pay her any heed anyway). She peered from behind the bookshelf, her hands balancing herself, and gazed at the pair who were oblivious to their surroundings, blissfully so.

Hermione was perched upon the reading table, her long, tanned legs wrapped around Harry's waist as her lover ravaged her mouth, her neck and further below. Harry was desperate and clumsy in his passion, overcome by his need of her and Hermione acknowledged this fact by threading her fingers through his hair and tugging at it frantically. Ginny bristled with jealousy. With her, Harry had always been gentle and hesitant which she had always thought to be a result of his fear of hurting his best friend's sister. He let her know when he was about to kiss her, or touch her, asking for permission. Ginny never minded his shyness, shelving it as a mere effect of his inexperience and the lack of actual human contact his whole life. She was patient with him, even when he constantly denied her invitations to her bed or when he outright refused to be rough with her. He used to say he could never disrespect her like that. Harry was thoroughly disrespecting Hermione at the moment.

It irked her that he had to act all saintly with her when he really was capable of such wild abandon. It made her feel unattractive and unworthy. After all what kind of witch was she if she couldn't even entice her own boyfriend? Dean and Michael had been appreciative of her consent and enthusiasm for snogging but they were all sloppy and clueless with her. She was rather happy to be rid of them. But Harry had been special. She had been wishing and dreaming about him her whole life and when they finally got together she expected a fervent and intense romance, alike the ones she read about in those trashy muggle erotica Hermione lent her. But what followed put a dampener on all her hopes. He was so awfully placid when all she wanted was for him to lose control that it drove her to endless frustration.

Now, as she observed him though, she was certain that he really did not want her and had been just kind to her – pitying her one can say. Because when Harry Potter really wanted a woman, he did not put up any walls of modesty and hesitancy and took from her quite shamelessly. He was rough and untamed, as if he couldn't get enough of her. The fact never failed to bring tears to her eyes. Could she ever bring any man to such extremes? She dabbed at the said tears with her sleeve and resumed to look at the couple who were now grinding against each other.

"Disgusting, isn't it?" A smooth, serpentine voice whispered right next to her ear and she jumped up, hands going to her mouth to muffle the yelp that almost escaped.

Draco Malfoy stood reclining against the bookshelf, so close to her that she nearly stepped on his immaculately polished shoes. A look of fine amusement flickered over his patrician features as he noticed her startled expression.

Heat flooded her cheeks upon his discovery of her wicked actions. Surely, he was already formulating a plan in his wretched mind about how best to torment her with this information. The idea stabilized her scrambled brains and she set him with her famous glare, hands crossed in front of her in a defensive stance.

"What do you want, ferret?" She hissed at him, conscious of the fact that they could be well heard by the snogging couple behind them.

"Nothing, Weaselette. I was just merely making an observation," he replied, not at all fazed by her hardened eyes. "It is rather disgusting isn't it? The way they go on canoodling all around Hogwarts. As if the place isn't defiled thoroughly enough already," said Draco Malfoy, one of the greatest contributors of the said defilement.

"Well enough, Malfoy. But you know, _nobody_ gives a bloody damn as to what _you_ think," Ginny whispered back to him referring to the outcast status he had recently acquired. Having spied for the order, in exchange for the safety of his mother, he had earned the scorn of all the Death Eaters and Slytherins (as they had just needed a reason to dethrone him from his Kingly status) who deemed him as a traitor for aiding the other side. But even his defection did not grant him acceptance within the other houses of Hogwarts (not that he terribly minded that fact). He was still Draco Malfoy, the bigoted bully whose life's mission earlier was to make those he deemed to be lower than himself miserable. The problem was that he deemed everyone to be lower than himself.

Nowadays, all he did was attend classes and then retire to his personal room – a luxury that had been granted only to the few Slytherins returning to Hogwarts in lieu of their scarce numbers. Nobody talked to him, nor did he ever express any desire to hold conversations with anyone – not even his own housemates. But even his isolation did nothing to render his ego or the air of superiority he exhumed everywhere he went. He held a constant light of hilarity in his eyes as if he was enjoying some joke only he knew the punch line of.

Indeed, it perplexed her greatly though; his sudden interest in talking to her out of everyone. After all, it had been her brother who had rallied against him vehemently when he began to spy for them and even after the war got over, Ron had expressly worked to make sure that Malfoy was scorned by everyone at school. It was extremely petty but she knew better than to question his actions and support Malfoy. Besides, this was Malfoy; he deserved it in a way.

"Still that doesn't void my right to express what I feel," he enunciated his point by a sneer aimed at the blatant display of affection before them.

"Exercise your rights some other place then, Malfoy. And leave me alone." Ginny sighed, already tired by this pointless banter and longing for the comfort of her bed where she could cry and fret freely.

"So you can go back to gawking at the mating lions?" He chuckled lightly at his supposedly clever joke. Ginny merely rolled her eyes even as a new blush speared her cheeks, reminded of the fact that he had already caught her staring. "Really Weaselette, I must say I never took you for a voyeur. Whore, yes. But a voyeur…I am extremely surprised to be sure."

Ginny quickly averted her gaze from his face and to the floor in shame. It was all extremely embarrassing; to be found by Malfoy of all people and she knew thar he was going to make her regret her birth for the rest of the year. But something that he said, other than pointing out her perverted actions, made her whip her head back up in anger.

"What do you mean by 'whore'?" She asked as she took a threatening step toward him, her hand touching her wand which was tucked into a hoop of her belt. He noticed her movement and smiled, as if she was the most hilarious creature on earth.

"Why Weasley, I presumed that you lot were at least half literate. A whore means-"

Ginny cut him off, taking another dangerous step in his direction, glowering: "I know what that means, ferret. I was asking what you mean by calling me one."

"Well, how about the fact you throw yourself at the feet of any wizard who cares to spare you a second thought," he began, his nose scrunching up in distaste, "though why would any sane, self-respecting wizard do that is beyond me." His eyes slithered down her body in disapproval, taking in her worn out robe and scandalously short skirt – a rather new development of this year, much to her brother's chagrin.

"Oh and that is enough to qualify me as a whore, Malfoy?" She scoffed at his hypocritical words. Everybody was aware of his notoriously vast sexual appetites (even though now, not a single witch would touch him with a stick), and if anyone deserved the word, it was himself. "Are you sure you understand the definition of the word? But, I guess then Malfoys aren't even half-literate. You lot are too busy propagating blood purity and following genocidal monsters and getting locked up in Azkaban to get basic education. "She smiled at him then, baring her teeth in a manner that looked anything but genuine. "Tell me now, ferret, how's daddy dearest doing rotting in the cells?" She knew that she was pushing it by mentioning his father but it was him who decided to talk to her anyway. She was not entirely liable for her behavior.

"He's doing all well now. A bit suicidal given his current position but Mother says that will pass. He's always been such a drama queen anyway. Thank you for your concern though, I will make sure he knows that you remain here wishing well for him," he smiled back at her, causing her to frown. She had expected him to be angry and spiteful but he continued with his annoying air of casualness with flippant persistence. It grated on her nerves immensely. "And I must admit whore was a bit too strong a word for you. Maybe pathetic, attention-seeking hypocrite would do just fine?

Ginny curled her hands into tight fists and she wondered for how long she could control her temper before she surrendered to the sweet temptation of violence. It would be _most_ satisfying to see him bleed or at least curled up on the floor in pain, whimpering. But no, that was what he wanted exactly. For her to express her aggression in such a way that he could make fun of her later. And besides, she noted with displeasure as her eyes ran over him, he could well overpower her quite easily.

The war had been cruel and devastating for both the sides, and it had taken great parts from a lot of people till they were hollow, little shells of what they used to be, by scarring them and breaking them and shrinking them – mentally and physically.

For Malfoy, though, it was an entire opposite case. It seemed the war had enhanced him in ways that he was no longer the cowardly, frail boy who ran from any sign of danger and hid behind his family's name. He was a man now: stronger, smarter and powerful in his own right. He was taller than he used to be before, almost towering over Ron, and his body had gained some musculature over time giving him a lean, well-built frame. His hair no longer bore any sticky products and he kept it short which made him look graver, more serious. Now that he was no longer awfully thin, his features did not look pointy but rather sharp and masculine. Even Ginny admitted that he did have the nicest jaw line she had ever come across. The only thing he did retain though was his pale, alabaster complexion. But now it only managed to make him look ethereal almost.

It was a shame though that all these godly looks were wasted on Draco Malfoy – as many a witch had often noted.

But it was these godly looks that Ginny was now struggling not to hex. Her hand twitched at her wand with the desire to cause him some harm but she reined it in. _I am not letting him get to me._

"And how do you suppose you are going to justify that, Malfoy?" She inquired with forced calmness.

His lips curled into his most notorious smirk.

"I don't have to justify it, Weaselette. It's a fact."

"And that's an excuse for the truth that you cannot prove it. Just because you called me a 'whore' or whatever does not make me one. Which in reality I am not anyway." She narrowed her eyes at him and stepped away making to leave and be done with this whole debacle. Maybe she had woken up in the wrong side of her bed after all.

"I think I already mentioned how you are an attention-seeker, Weasley." He suddenly spoke up halting her exit effectively. "Or would have me explain in detail about how you go simpering after every lad who only thinks you are worth one good shag? No? I didn't think so either."

"I don't go-"She reared back at him viciously, her face twisted in pure fury.

"And this blatant denial makes you a hypocrite. Accept it, Weaselette. You do like it when boys look at you and want you. You like it when they flirt with you. You like it because you think that means you are not an undesirable witch. You do it to reaffirm your appeal and that's alright. Potter dumping you made you feel poor and unwanted and you just wish to bring back your confidence. Accept. It. Weaselette."

Ginny's eyes widened in surprise and she inched away from him. He unnerved her. The way he looked at her with steady, unwavering eyes as he spoke out things that were so true, made her feel naked. It was as if all the layers of clothing she wore were nothing and she stood before him in all her glory.

No, what she felt right now pulsing in between them was much deeper. It transcended the realms of skin and body and pierced right into her very soul. She was exposed, bared and even though she had an urge to wrap her arms around herself, to keep from his intrusive gaze, she knew she could never truly hide herself.

Malfoy too seemed very much aware of her situation and his smirk returned.

"You know what else makes you a hypocrite?" His eyes flittered away from her face – and she was so relieved to be free of his attention – and focused on the embracing couple, still locked in each other and oblivious to what was happening just a few feet away from them. Ginny knew what he was going to say next and she bit her lip, in preparation of the onslaught.

"You pretend that you don't care about Potter and Granger's mission to snog around the whole castle and scar people for life but you do," he walked up to her till he stood right in front of her and she fixed her eyes to his chest, staring at the Slytherin tie there, "oh and you do care about it all so deeply. Tell me Weasley, how does it feel like watching Granger act like a hussy, so different than her usual uppity nature, whenever Potter touches her? I wonder though honestly, what does he have that would make the virginal bookworm abandon her morals and spread her legs so eagerly? Tell me Weasley, you would know, wouldn't you?" He was outright mocking her now.

"Or did Potter not offer any of that to you?" He began circling her, caging her there physically. "It must kill you then, that he would prefer _Granger_ over you. Granger whose hair resembles a nest and who has her head so far up in her ass that she can't tell the time of the day." She felt him stop behind her, his front pressing into her back imposingly. Yet she was frozen, unable to move from her position, completely at his mercy.

"Look now Weaselette." He grabbed her chin roughly and pulled so that she was now looking at the said pair of lovers. Harry had his head thrown back as Hermione sucked on his neck, their hips still grinding against each other. But it was the expression on Harry's face – mouth hung open, eyes scrunched tight in sheer ecstasy – that made her gasp. He looked so immersed in pleasure, so intense, so _unlike Harry_ that she wondered if he was the same man she used to date once.

"Did Potter ever enjoy himself like that with you? Did he lose himself in bliss so much that he was not even aware that he might be hurting you? Look at how he grips her, like she is a lifeline, like he would die if she was taken away from him now. Look at the desperation with which they move. Look Weaselette, _look_. _Look at him come_. " Malfoy hissed into her ear sounding not unlike the symbol of his house and she did as he told her to. She looked as Harry groaned loudly, and began to grind against Hermione in fast, quick motions as his whole body shuddered violently. Ginny was bewitched by the way he looked like, so wild, so free. Exactly how she wanted him to be with her.

Ginny was not aware of the tears rolling down her cheeks till Malfoy skimmed his fingers there and extracted wetness, his hand hovering in front of her, a specimen of her weakness. Nothing was said between them and the only sounds echoing around were Harry and Hermione's sighs and giggles as they finally broke from their embrace and moved around.

Harry chuckled at the wet spot on his pants as Hermione stretched out her limbs and tried to fix her appearance.

"What am I going do to with this now, Hermione?" He asked he helped his lover down from her perch on the high desk.

Giggling, Hermione grabbed her wand and waved it in front of him and the spot disappeared instantly.

"Thank you, love." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her chastely. Ginny almost sobbed at the gentle affection they shared between them.

"Hmm…Don't thank me just yet. I think you owe me something." Hermione replied coyly, her fingers playing with his collar.

"Whatever that may be?"

"I did not get to you know-"A familiar blush spread across the brunette's cheeks. Ginny felt Malfoy scoff at her shyness and mutter something that sounded much like 'fucking prude'.

"Oh yes, sorry about that." Harry replied with a light blush of his own as he looked away from her sheepishly. "Do you want me to…?" He trailed off looking thoroughly embarrassed and Ginny wondered how two enthusiastic exhibitionists like them could possibly be so shy to talk about such things.

"No. I mean, not now. I have got to finish my Charms essay and study a bit. How about you come to my room later?" Being the Head Girl, Hermione had been granted a personal room.

Ginny's heart did a tiny flip, something it did every time she thought about how they both must be having sex, a privilege Harry thoroughly denied her.

"Sure, catch you later then." And with that Harry put an arm around Hermione and they both left with secret smiles on their faces which were quite easy to decipher.

When they made to pass them, Malfoy dragged Ginny further behind a bookshelf to obscure themselves from their view. His hands were poised on her hips lightly and he held her at a distance. Ginny thought all this sudden charade of chivalry was quite duplicitous as he was treating her roughly just moments ago.

"So Weaselette tell me now." He began once he was sure that they both had left, "Do you pretend to not care about it?"

Ginny did not answer him at first, letting the tears flow down her cheeks freely. Her chest felt like it would overflow with all the grief she felt at the moment. There was no denying it. It was all futile now.

"Yes," she sobbed out, her voice scratchy and thick, "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, _yes_!" Her cries came out unbidden now, sounding as miserable as she felt inside.

Ginny felt him lean closer to her, the pressure of his hands on her hips increasing in the slightest. He positioned his mouth so close to her ear that his lips were almost touching her skin. She stiffened immediately.

"And that's exactly what makes you pathetic, Weaselette. " He chuckled darkly before she found herself being shoved lightly. She tittered yet regained her balance, watching with red rimmed eyes as Malfoy walked away from her, his expensive robes billowing behind him.

She let the sobs consume her she fell to her knees on the library floor and wrapped her arms around her shaking body.

 **A/N:** Sooooo...? Please hit me up with any queries if you have any. I am more than eager to answer them. And what do you think is gonna happen next?

Till next time,

Foofs (Don't ask)


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